


Sorry to my unknown lover

by imadethisaccountforshirbert



Series: So you're suggesting I post? [2]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bitter Gilbert, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Heartbreak, Heartbroken Anne, Heartbroken Gilbert, Lots and lots of pain, Mature Anne, Pain, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, but I also have to follow my muse, they're both in so much pain, this is just me fixing my mess, you're gonna suffer but you're gonna be happy about it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26075065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadethisaccountforshirbert/pseuds/imadethisaccountforshirbert
Summary: The events of "'So you're suggesting I post?'" have changed both Anne and Gilbert, and their relationship, irrevocably. As Gilbert attempts to remove himself from every part of her, Anne must come to terms with her own feelings and the fact that she may have ruined her chance at love forever.Due to how much these two were changed by the event, please be prepared for a different Anne and Gilbert than we had in S3.This is my own S3.Please make sure to read Part 1 beforehand, otherwise the sequel will make no sense and you will be very annoyed and confused!
Relationships: Diana Barry & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe & Sebastian "Bash" Lacroix, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Winifred Rose, Marilla Cuthbert & Matthew Cuthbert & Anne Shirley, Mary Lacroix/Sebastian ''Bash'' Lacroix
Series: So you're suggesting I post? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892083
Comments: 99
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I'm aiming to post an update every second day or so. This chapter is relatively short so apologies, it picks up from Part 1 so please make sure to read that first!

Marilla had been in a state by the time she and Matthew arrived at the schoolhouse. She'd practically flung herself from the buggy, one hand on her hat and the other clutching her skirts, running towards her as if she had been on the verge of death rather than suffering a mere minor injury. Anne quickly hid the notice up her sleeve, by now regarding it as her most treasured possession.

'Anne? Anne! Oh Anne!' Marilla fell down by the brook and burst into tears, wrapping her bewildered daughter in a vice-like embrace, 'She's alright, Matthew, she's alright!'

Anne peeked out from beneath Marilla's scratchy shawl, watching Matthew as he parked. The corners of her mouth turned up weakly, Belle's presence served as a greater comfort than she could have imagined.

'We've been so worried, I've been half sick! The both of us have. Anne, what happened?' Marilla implored.

Anne furrowed her brow, baffled, 'Marilla I - I only _fell._ Believe me, I'm quite certain my pride is more bruised than anything else!' she flinched at the fresh memories her mention of the event brought back.

'I don't believe it for a moment', Marilla remained resolute, 'I can _see_ you've been crying', Anne flinched once more, 'Goodness, Anne, what are you like? I'm going to have Matthew fetch the doctor once we get you home'.

Anne was about to protest, but stopped herself as Matthew hurried over beside them.

'Alright then, Anne?' he rubbed her back, his voice shaking slightly, she could tell he was trying to hide his worry and it made her heart swell.

'I'm fine,' Anne smiled up at him lovingly, 'really, I am. There's no need for a _doctor',_ she turned back to Marilla, laughing incredulously.

'I'll thank you to stop that snickering at once', Marilla snapped, still very raw from the emotion of it all. 'I'll have you know that young Gilbert Blythe was beside himself when he came to tell me the news. All out of breath and near tears, why, he ran away before I could speak a word more. The poor boy almost broke down!'

Anne's heart dropped and she froze, inhaling shakily. Marilla's reminder, although unintentional in it's effects, acted as a knife twisting it's way about her gut. Oblivious to the truth regarding Anne's reaction, Marilla nodded in victory.

'So, as you can imagine, I'm going to take the expertise of a young doctor-in-training into greater consideration than the opinions of my stubborn daughter. Oh _Anne_ \- ' Marilla's voice broke as she wrapped her in her arms once more, rocking her from side to side. She kissed her head quickly before resuming her rocking, surprising Anne. Marilla had never been so open in her affections before. Anne refused to dwell on what her mother could have seen to evoke such a display.

Anne couldn't help but cringe at the pain as she stood. Matthew helped steady her to her feet as Marilla clucked about her like a mother hen. In all honesty, Anne secretly hated the attentions she was receiving. They were the absolute opposite of what she deserved. She was certain that a beating would be far more fitting. Although, even with the knowledge of the truth, she doubted Marilla would be willing to doll out such a punishment. She would instead have to mortify herself, starting with purposefully walking in such a way that caused her even more discomfort. The fact that Marilla and Matthew were fussing over her so excessively, utterly oblivious to the truth, made her sick with guilt, and she was determined to do whatever she could to remedy it.

They walked over to the buggy and Anne's eyes bulged as Marilla fetched two plump pillows, as well as a various assortment of blankets, out from the back. She placed one blanket down on the front seat and set the two pillows so that they would cushion both Anne's back and underside. Anne's stomach twisted, it was all so unnecessary.

'Please Marilla, let me just sit in the back - '

'Nonsense!' Marilla cut her off. 'It's been decided. You and Matthew will sit up front. I'll be just fine right here'.

Anne could tell that this arrangement had been long sorted out and it was clear arguing wasn't going to be an option.

She let Matthew lift her up and onto the carriage seat. She felt limp and dazed as Marilla tucked three thick blankets beneath her legs. The warmth felt good, but Anne found herself loosening them once Marilla's gaze was diverted. She didn't deserve the warmth and she didn't deserve to get away with what she did. Not without repercussions.

Once everyone was set, Matthew clicked and flicked the reins and the carriage began to move.

'My hat!'

The carriage jolted to an abrupt halt at Anne's cry. She winced loudly, unprepared for the sharp pain that shot up her spine.

'Oh for goodness sake, Anne!' Marilla complained, impatience heavy in her voice. 'What on earth is it now?'

'My hat…' Anne mumbled pitifully, her voice breaking as she pointed towards the discarded grey cap, which appeared very sorrowful indeed all alone by the log near the brook.

'Oh for heaven's sake…' Marilla grumbled disapprovingly as Matthew hurried down to retrieve the item in question. 'And pray tell me Anne, what on earth is your cap doing all the way over there?'

'I slipped I - watch out for the ice!' Anne remembered, although Matthew himself was nowhere near.

'Well isn't this a pretty piece of business', Marilla shook her head, 'I'm sure you led Gilbert Blythe a merry dance, falling over yourself. Honestly Anne, what were you doing?'

Marilla's words cut into her and Anne watched vacantly as Matthew dusted off the dirt and stray twigs from her cap. 'I slipped', she answered simply, 'on the ice'.

'And Gilbert found you?'

'Yes', Anne uttered in one painful breath.

'Well, it seems you didn't make the job easy', Marilla gathered, 'I suppose you ignored his help and walked about all over the place'.

'I was thirsty,' Anne replied easily, surprising herself with the calmness of the lie 'I crawled over to get a drink'.

Anne was only half listening to Marilla. She was somewhat shocked by the way Matthew wandered about the brook and log with such little regard. Could he not sense what solemn and significant events had taken place there only minutes before? At least Matthew had no knowledge of the prior encounter, that made things a little easier, but the same could not be said for Gilbert's own harrowing indifference towards the scene.

'My word…' Marilla exclaimed as Matthew arrived back and presented Anne with her bedraggled cap. 'I'm going to have Matthew pick you up from school for the next week. No more of this funny business, though, I must say, I myself fail to find any humor in the matter. You're lucky Gilbert was here when he was. You could have been stuck here come dark! And with Matthew and I none the wiser to your whereabouts! Of course, I'm certain we would have found you eventually, but goodness knows the state you would have been in. The doctor would be treating you for a lot more than this, that's for sure and certain! We'd have a case of hypothermia on our hands, and heaven _knows_ what that could have developed into…'

Marilla carried on with her rant for a long while but the exact length of it soon became lost on Anne, for she found her mother's voice fading with each word. She felt quite detached from everyone and everything. She heard Matthew click once more and the buggy started moving again. One of the pillows had ridden up her back and the other had bunched itself up beneath her knees, resulting in near agonizing pain with each slight jolt. She allowed the pain to course throughout her body, clutching her hat and staring back at the grey, foggy world of the schoolhouse, which now seemed a mystical, unreal place holding a lifetime of secrets. It would never be like this again, for Anne knew by the time she arrived at school next week all the magic would be lost. She wouldn't even let herself blink, drinking up every bit of her surroundings so that she could keep them tightly locked within her heart forever.

She turned her head further still, twisting her spine in such a way that caused her even more agony, but Anne didn't care. She remained like that, looking back longingly until everything was gone.

****

Just as she had suspected, by next week Anne's precious, enchanted world had long since disappeared. Her birthday had passed in a nice enough, if anticlimactic, fashion. It was of no surprise, since all excitement had been lost on it's eve. Darling Diana had surprised her with a birthday party which served as the sweetest distraction possible, even if only for an hour. Marilla had called on the doctor the previous evening which, after a most painfully humiliating examination, resulted in the diagnosis of a badly bruised tailbone. She'd had to endure both her surprise birthday party and the next week at school seated atop a padded cushion. She used the excuse that she'd slipped while rushing back to collect a forgotten pen and, apart from the not-so-secret sniggering of Miss Josie Pye at her expense, it was a story no one else thought anything of. Life carried on almost entirely as usual.

Except Gilbert Blythe was ignoring her.

It wasn't as if she had consciously _expected_ anything different, it's just that a small part of her had hoped…

It wasn't even that he was rude or abrupt, that was perhaps the worst part, _that_ she was prepared for and _that_ she could have handled. Instead, it was as if she wasn't even there, as if she was entirely invisible, and it was that that was so excruciating.

She deserved it though, she knew she did, and Gilbert was certainly showing no mercy.

But then again, why should he? Anne had certainly shown no mercy to him when she so carelessly shattered his heart without regard - _oh...oh **no**_

Anne couldn't dwell on the fact for too long without falling into the very depths of despair, it was far too much. She couldn't allow herself to fully come to terms with what she'd done, because if she did she knew she would never know any semblance of peace.

Diana knew something was wrong, perceptive as she was, and begged for Anne to confide in her. Anne desperately tried to explain that she couldn't, leaving Diana hurt and cross and herself even more miserable than before.

She'd never felt so alone, not even when she was a young child. With both Matthew and Marilla out of the question, she found herself unable to entrust her sorrow to anyone, not even Belle. For how could she share something that she didn't even want to acknowledge herself?

She wasn't ready, perhaps she never would be.

And it was precisely this that led her to drop her glass of milk in shock.

_'No!'_

The cry left her lips not of her own accord, more as an automatic reflex, although her answer would have been no different either way.

'Anne Shirley-Cuthbert!' Marilla exclaimed in horror, too shocked to be properly angry, 'My word, look at what you've done you silly child! What on earth has gotten into you?'

'Oh, Marilla please', Anne begged, 'Please, Marilla, please cancel it! I'll do anything!'

'Cancel?' Marilla blinked, 'I think _not!_ This has been planned for days. It's already all been sorted out with Mary, who, mind you, has been slaving away in that kitchen preparing far more food than she ought. I told her not to, mind you, but that woman won't be told. Goodness me, you ungrateful girl, cancel indeed!' Marilla scolded as she went to fetch a mop.

Anne groaned like a wounded animal, sinking to the floor and covering her face with her hands.

'I can't believe this is happening!' she wailed.

'I'll thank you to stop this ridiculousness this instant!' Marilla's patience was wearing thin as she handed her a bowl to pick up the glass, 'Careful now, _Anne_ , you reckless girl, you really ought to think sometimes!' Anne herself didn't respond to the criticism, too miserable to care, 'you would think you'd be glad to have the Lacroix's over, you're practically with Mary every other day!' Anne just sniffed pathetically in response, 'and it's the least we can do as a thank you to dear Gilbert. That boy is a blessing and a half, thank the Lord he was there when needed! Goodness knows what…' Marilla trailed off with a sigh, 'The dinner is arranged, they're coming and that's that, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour, _especially_ with Gilbert'.

Anne had been well and truly defeated, there was no way she was winning this, not a chance.

Tomorrow evening Gilbert Blythe would be here, in this house, in this _room,_ it was the first time they would be properly face to face in a week. They would have to meet eyes, they would have to speak. It was too soon, she wasn't ready. Especially when it would be in front of everyone. This was the worst possible scenario and Anne had no idea what she was going to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your gorgeous feedback, it truly means more than you know!

Gilbert hadn't spoken a proper word to Bash or Mary in almost a week. The three had settled into a sort of routine and an unspoken agreement remained between them. Gilbert would get up at six o clock, have breakfast with them, with conversation between the couple always remaining on decidedly dry topics (such as food and farmwork). He would then go to school, arrive back at four and remain in his room 'til the next morning. 

Bash and Mary obviously recognized that the new arrangement couldn't last forever, and they had tried to tentatively speak a word to Gilbert here and there, with some attempt at speculation as to what had brought on this worrying state. Although, it would be more accurate to say that any overt speculation came from one particular party alone. Said guilty party would soon afterward be swept into the next room and reprimanded by his more sensitive and diplomatic half.

Still, Mary was curious too. However, though she was just as eager to learn the truth as her husband, she had enough sense and patience to keep those nagging queries in check. Instead, she put her focus on making life as easy and stress-free for Gilbert as she could.

None of this was like him, he'd changed and it was extremely unnerving for the both of them. She had at first assumed it would pass, that by the next morning he'd be his old self again, but it never happened. As the days went on, Mary grew increasingly worried. Gilbert couldn't keep on like this, cut off from the world, it wasn't healthy in any shape or form.

So when none other than Marilla Cuthbert appeared at her door one fine morning, with a generous invitation no less, it at first appeared like a godsend.

'I was wondering if the four of you would like to join us for dinner at Green Gables this Friday?' 

'We'd be honoured!' she laughed in surprise, wiping her hands on her apron and inviting her neighbour in.

'I'll bring the starter, I know Matthew loves my my chicken soup, and I'll bake a few loaves while I'm at it'.

'Now don't cause yourself any trouble!' Marilla objected. 'Yourselves will do just fine'. 

Mary smiled, both Marilla and herself knew that there was no way she'd even consider showing up to their house empty handed. 

'I must say', Marilla set down some groceries she'd picked up for Mary from her usual trip, 'I'm surprised to see you without a baby on your back!'

'Oh, believe you me, so am I! I got her down an hour ago and am savouring every moment I can. Y-you're still coming Friday morning righ -'

'I wouldn't miss it', Marilla assured.

Mary sighed in relief.

'I love it, don't get me wrong. I was looking forward to doing it all over again, the bonding, the feeding, even the nappies, but I'd forgotten just how  _ tiring _ it is. I'm so exhausted all the time. I suppose I was so much younger back then...it's all just come flooding back to me, the good  _ and _ the not so good, but I wouldn't change it for the world', she reflected tenderly.

Marilla's face turned soft in sympathy. 

'Please don't trouble yourself too much Mary, the invitation is ours, although I fear it falls a tad short of a proper thank you after what dear Gilbert did for Anne'.

'Gilbert?' Mary turned in the middle of her chopping, a mix of confusion and alarm.

'Of course Gilbert! Why don't you know?' 

Mary shook her head, her mind abuzz and heart racing.

'That boy! It's just like him to be so modest, not unlike John, he practically saved Anne from a night outside! Oh, I dread to think…, why, it was only on account of the fact that he was there that Anne got home at all'.

'Anne? Wait I - is Anne alright?', Mary blinked several times as she absorbed the new information.

'Thanks to Gilbert she is! Did he really not say anything? We owe him a great deal, I never got the chance to properly thank him myself'.

'Marilla, a-are you sure Anne's alright?'

'Save for a bruised bottom, and a bad case of "wounded pride" as she calls it, she's fine. Although, the state Gilbert was in when he came to fetch me would say otherwise. I dare say she made a fine show of herself and worried the poor boy, you know our Anne, clumsy thing that she is'.

'He was upset?' Mary pressed, playing calm.

'I was afraid poor Gilbert would burst into tears on the spot! He looked sick with grief, those twenty minutes were some of the worst of my life, I had no idea what condition we'd find her in. I'm sure Matthew will tell you, I was inconsolable'.

Mary remained silent, her breathing deep.

_ Oh no _

'Still, thankfully that terrible spectacle is done and over with. I'm sure Anne will provide you with a riveting encounter of the event as only she can. Shall we expect you before six?'

'Y-yes…', Mary agreed, more confused than ever before.

She saw Marilla out as collectedly as she could. A sick feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach as she pondered what it could all mean and whether or not she'd just made a very bad decision.

  
  


****

  
  


The next morning, as the four sat eating breakfast, Mary decided it best to approach the topic nonchalantly.

'Marilla Cuthbert popped by yesterday', she said while buttering her toast.

If she hadn't been watching Gilbert so carefully from the corner of her eye she would have missed him freezing for a millisecond.

'Brought us our groceries again, did she?' Bash looked up from feeding a weaning Dellie her stewed apple. 'Please thank her for me next time you see her, that woman do be goin' to some great lengths'.

'You can thank her yourself on Friday', Mary replied smoothly, 'she's invited us all for dinner'.

Gilbert's spoon clattered on the wood.

'What?' he looked up, an unreadable expression etched on his features. He didn't look quite like himself, making him appear almost uncanny.

'I said that the Cuthberts have invited us around for dinn - '

'No'.

'Gilbert...', Mary remained calm.

'No. I - no. I won't be going', he abruptly stood, porridge half finished.

'Now, now, Blythe', Bash reasoned, 'come on, sit down', he used Dellie's spoon to direct him back.

'I…' Gilbert blinked, turning his back on them, 'I…ugh…', he shook his head slightly, tugging at the messy hair he hadn't bothered to comb in days. He eventually cleared his throat. 'When did - you - you arranged this yesterday Mary?' Gilbert asked with newfound composure.

'I did', she answered.

'And you didn't think to ask me first?' 

There was an edge to his voice.

'Hey!' Bash raised his own voice slightly, not liking his tone, 'That's enough Blythe'.

'Bash', Mary held out her hand.

'Sorry…', Gilbert whispered to them both, shaking his head, 'I'm sorry, I apologise, Mary', he gave her a quick look of genuine remorse before turning away again.

She wasn't in the least offended, simply because this wasn't Gilbert. None of it was him.

'Gilbert, do you want to tell me what's going on?' 

'I - I just - I - I can't go. I can't go'. he answered determinedly.

'Gilbert…' Mary knew she had to be very careful with her words, 'I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and all you have to do is shake your head yes or no. Can you do that for me?' 

Gilbert hesitated for a few seconds before nodding his head very slightly. She could tell he was feeling vulnerable and it overwhelmed her with intense compassion.

'Gilbert, is this to do with Anne?'

She wasn't going to beat around the bush and could have sworn she heard him breathe in sharply. After a while he gave a nod. His knuckles had turned white.

'Okay…' Mary exhaled slowly at the confirmation,  _ now _ they were getting somewhere, 'and would I be correct in thinking that this...issue...doesn't involve her injury from last week?'

He clenched his fists tighter then, giving three quick nods. He'd become hunched and was shaking slightly.

It was all the information Mary needed.

'Okay…', she nodded, 'okay, that's all I need to know', she paused before continuing. 

'Gilbert, I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do, and I understand this is a difficult situation, but I will warn you that I don't think skipping this meal will be of any benefit to you in the long run. Marilla is adamant that she thank you for whatever you did for Anne and, no matter the excuse we give, it's just going to be rearranged for you again and again. We can either get it over with now or leave it. But believe me, it will only result in more questions'.

She left it at that, not wanting to push it any further than needed. Bash and Dellie looked between the two of them with big eyes.

'I - ' Gilbert trembled, sounding very young, 'I don't know I - ' he sighed.

The room remained silent for a long time.

'I'll go...but I don't want to go over there again. Ever'.

Mary couldn't believe her ears, she had prepared herself for far more of a struggle.

'I think that's a very wise decision Gilbert', she said encouragingly. 'We won't stay for long, that I can promise'.

Gilbert nodded, before grabbing his cap and satchel.

'I-I better get going…' he rushed out of the house quickly, obviously shaken by both the news and the unexpected confrontation.

'Well, that was...' a confounded Bash was the first to break the silence, having remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. 'How did you figure it was all about Anne?' 

'I put two and two together', Mary's voice was sombre, her arms crossed as she watched Gilbert run off.

'You think…?'

'Yes I think she rejected him!' Mary screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to imagine the specifics. She loved Gilbert like her own and it killed her to think of what could have occurred.

Bash set down Dellie's spoon and rubbed his face with his hand, 'Oh Blythe…' he groaned in guilt, 'and me with all my teasin' and what not, I should have just left things alone'.

'I knew he liked Anne but…' Mary sat down, covering her face in her own hands and shaking her head, 'obviously I don't blame  _ her _ , I know she wouldn't have been unnecessary cruel and sometimes heartbreak is inevitable...,' Mary rested her chin on her hands, 'but I'm  _ worried _ Sebastian. I'm really worried. I've never seen anything like this. I don't even know what to think. Did I do the right thing with Marilla…?' she looked at her husband with pleading eyes.

Bash sighed as he looked back sadly, scratching his head, 'Mary, I don't know if there ever is a "right thing" with somethin' like this. The boy got rejected, it happens, he's goin' to have to deal with it in whatever way he can. I love him but you know I'm right. It's just somethin' he's goin' to have to come to terms with. It's life Mary'.

But her husband's words did nothing to give her any comfort, for intuition warned her that it wasn't going to be that simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to do Gilbert's POV but it turned into Mary's instead, I hope you don't mind, also Mary is NOT going to die in this fic because I say so. Please leave a comment if you liked this chapter, your comments give me life!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO LONG TO UPDATE I WILL EXPLAIN BELOW. Unfortunately this is only half of the intended chapter.

'We can turn back…' Mary stated abruptly, earning a very confused look from her husband in return. Her stomach was turning as guilt set in, she had become unsure of herself and her advice. Was what she was doing right? Was it for the best? In the long run she knew it would be, but  _ she _ wasn't the one with the broken heart. It was so easy for her…

Was she being unfair? Was it all going to be too much? She was filled with sickening doubt.

'It's fine', said Gilbert so stoically that it both terrified and pained her. 'Let's just get it over with'.

Mary gulped, feeling rather cold all of a sudden, unable to argue.

It was an almost disorienting experience, leaving behind the cold and anxiety of the outdoors and entering into the warmth of Green Gables. Marilla's own fierce greeting only added to this.

'Now get yourselves out of the cold, come in, come in!' she received them into the parlour with unmatched enthusiasm. 

Mary could only imagine what Gilbert was feeling, but by this time there was no going back.

Tension was high, although on their side alone, Marilla seemed none the wiser as to the details of the delicate situation, or even that there  _ was _ a delicate situation to begin with. Now knowing what she knew, Mary felt almost uncomfortable by being welcomed in such an enthusiastic manner. However, she tried to fight it as best she could, and, smiling back, she grew determined to make the best of the evening for all of their sakes.

'Thank you!' Mary laughed, 'Marilla this is really too kind of you - '

'Nonsense!' Marilla cut her off at once, 'As I said before it's the least we can do - oh  _ Mary',  _ Marilla lifted the cover of her basket to reveal not one but  _ two _ batches of fresh loaves, 'you didn't!'

'I most certainly  _ did _ and I am not one  _ bit _ sorry!' Mary called back as she headed towards the kitchen. There Matthew waited rubbing his hands eagerly. 

'Your wife is as stubborn as they make them!' Marilla turned to Bash with an exasperated sigh.

'Don't I know it', Bash smiled back in amusement as he bounced Dellie.

'Well I'm certainly glad there's a good many of us, come now, everything's near ready.' she said as they followed her in, 'You go take a seat at the table Gilbert. Now, where has Anne got to? Anne? Anne!'

  
  


****

  
  


'Anne!'

Anne felt her stomach drop and her heart once again began to thump at what surely was an unhealthy rate. 

_ This is it _

It was what she'd been dreading, but now that it was here it didn't seem quite real. There was no way she could possibly go through with it. She wanted to burst into tears, burrow under her bed and leap out her bedroom window all at the same time.

But she couldn't, she had to do this.

_ One night, one night then it will all be over. All over. All over and no more. _

She'd been unwell all day, sick with anxiety, she'd visited the outhouse at least three times since she'd arrived home from school and felt like she needed to go again.

Anne took one last look at herself in the mirror of the dresser. She looked very changed, surely it couldn't be because of her birthday? She supposed she hadn't eaten as well as she should for the past week. Her skin was even paler than usual, almost translucent, and her face was hollow. She looked older, so very much older, and tired. It was as if she had aged several years in the past seven days. Her eyes took up her whole face, and, as she stared at the haunted figure in the mirror, she shivered. It wasn't as if she were looking at herself, you see, it was as if she were looking at a stranger.

Anne herself was in limbo, she didn't know who she was anymore. Nothing delighted her as it used to, nothing gave her joy or pleasure. Everything that she thought about herself, and what she was, had been wiped clean. Everything she loved and desired suddenly all felt so meaningless. Even now, looking in the mirror, her fervent desire for a beautiful face, for a hair colour different from her own, had vanished. It's not that she all of a sudden found herself beautiful, it just didn't  _ mean _ anything to her anymore. She didn't want to be loved or praised, she didn't want to possess or admire beauty, but what did she want?

Anne wasn't sure she wanted anything, or, at least, anything she could put her finger on. What she wanted was to do something, anything, to serve and make herself of use in some way. She felt so useless and undeserving in every sense, as if she were an impediment of some sort and taking up far too much space. 

She'd tried to make herself presentable, but taking up so much time on herself and her appearance made her feel ashamed and exhausted. She wore an old blouse of Marilla's and a simple brown skirt. Her single braid was already coming loose and she noticed a button done up wrong. She slowly began to undo them all and start again. Odd as it may seem, such a simple act took so much effort, for she was so tired all the time.

'Anne!'

'Coming!' her voice was quiet and hoarse and couldn't possibly have been heard by anyone but herself.

She clutched the rail so firmly as she descended the stairs that her hand burned. She swore she could  _ hear _ her insides and it took everything in her to not turn and rush right back up.

Anne audibly gasped as she reached the landing, jumping in shock and clutching her chest. 

_ Gilbert _

****

Anne couldn't move, but she was shaking slightly, her breath shallow. 

She didn't know what to do.

She wanted to say something but she couldn't. Oh, what a waste it was being so het up beforehand! Nothing could have prepared her for this. 

Gilbert sat alone at the table, the very same one she had been so carefully setting and arranging earlier. Anne could hear the others moving about the kitchen, chatting and joking without a care, and their evident obliviousness made her want to cry.

She couldn't form words, she tried but nothing was coming out, each time she choked like a fool.

He wasn't looking at her properly, he was instead staring at the wall to his left, his eyes fleeting back to the table from time to time as he picked at a loose thread from the cloth. His jaw remained firmly clenched as his eyes roamed. He looked bored, as if he didn't want to be there. 

She didn't want to be there either! But there was nothing worse than his complete and utter apathy. She'd rather he hate her than be indifferent.

'G - '

'There you are Anne!' Marilla exclaimed, as she arrived with Mary's soup. 

Anne choked again, her mouth agape, as she held onto the newel cap for dear life.

'Well, come on then, sit down and stop gawping. I do hope you've greeted our guest properly', Marilla shook her head. 'Don't mind her Gilbert, she's been in a funny state all afternoon'.

Gilbert nodded once, his expression unchanging as Marilla went to fetch the rest of the starter.

Anne stood awkwardly as her body flushed hot and cold. She didn't know what would be worse, sitting next to Gilbert or opposite him? Tentatively, she approached the table. She settled on, in her mind, the best option, which was the chair diagonal from Gilbert. She would have Marilla and Mary either beside or opposite her.

Anne fidgeted with her skirt, focusing half on the commotion of the kitchen and half on the beat of her own heart. The juxtaposition of the two situations made everything seem rather unreal, as if she was in a dream. It was unbearable. She couldn't stop herself from glancing at Gilbert from time to time, but each time she regretted it. Only once did his eyes meet hers, and he had looked with her with such disdain that it caused her face to burn and her eyes to water.

He hated her. 

He hated her and there was nothing she could do.

She didn't think she'd ever felt so hopeless.

Yet, still, she wanted to try again.

'Gil - '

Everyone seemed to descend in one large rush. 

'Here we are now, make yourselves comfortable!' 

'Don't mind if I do!'

'We're in for a feed the night!'

'Oh, how beautiful! Marilla, this really is exquisite. All for us?'

'You have Anne to thank for the floral arrangements. I'm afraid I'm rather lacking in that department! 

Anne stared up at Mary eagerly, awaiting her praise.

But Mary only looked at her for a second or so before she quickly composed herself and diverted her gaze. 

Anne wanted to burst into tears then and there. Did Mary know? She could never bear it if Mary decided to hate her too. It was all too awful!

Anne had never realised how small their dining room was until everyone was all clamoured in. Everything seemed to be shrinking around her, and it was almost making her claustrophobic.

The seating pattern had ended up like so: Bash and Matthew were at each head of the table, Anne sat opposite Mary and to Marilla's left while Gilbert was seated beside Mary and opposite Marilla.

They all held hands to say grace and Anne found herself wishing that she had been a bit braver and gone to sit beside Gilbert after all. Selfish as her wish was, she had an intense longing to be with him, to be near him. She wanted so desperately to hold his hand.

'...and bless the hands who made the food!' Mary finished the thanks sweetly.

'Do get started everyone!' Marilla encouraged them all.

Anne almost felt as if she was suffocating, she felt extremely hot and the chatter surrounding her drowned out everything else. She wanted Gilbert, she wanted to speak to Gilbert, but what could she say? The many voices surrounding her were overwhelming. Though, at the same time, she was oddly thankful. For just as much as she wanted to speak to Gilbert did she  _ not _ want to speak to him in front of everyone else.

Conversation was enthusiastic and, interestingly, almost led entirely by Mary and Bash. Whenever Marilla spoke, the two responded with twice as much avidity, and whenever Marilla would try to steer the conversation towards Gilbert, and therefore his gallantry, Mary skillfully steered the topic away so that it was almost forgotten. And so the cycle continued, although anyone out of the loop would remain entirely aware. Anne was constantly on edge, each time Marilla attempted to praise Gilbert her heart would speed up and she would curl her nails into her palm. Her leg shook impatiently as she glanced at the clock far too often, willing the meal to be over.

The starter itself went by painfully slowly, with the main course being slated to be even more so of a torment. Marilla collected their bowls and plates, as well as what little was left of the bread and soup, and headed to the kitchen to serve the main.

Anne let herself relax a little, for there was finally some break from eager Marilla's interrogations, although whatever relief she felt was shortlived. From the first few minutes of the dinner alone, she had quickly gathered that both Mary and Bash knew everything. Anne didn't know whether to be thankful or horrified with this new knowledge. It was obvious to her that they were trying with everything they had to direct the topic away from Gilbert, herself and that particular event. Though she was glad of their ceaseless efforts, it also made her want to die of embarrassment and shame.

What they must think of her!

She'd stopped trying to look at Gilbert directly, she couldn't risk it, but she could still spy him from the corner of her eye. The fact that he was so near and at the same time so unattainable made her ache.

She didn't want to imagine his expression.

Matthew made awkward small talk with the Lacroix's as best he could, with them carrying the conversation almost entirely, while Anne allowed herself to sneak glances and Gilbert's fingers as he continued to pick at the same loose tablecloth thread.

He had such beautiful hands, she'd never noticed before, they appeared so strong and smooth at the same time, but, then again, she supposed every part of him was beautiful. It had all been so lost on her before, but not anymore, she would never,  _ ever _ , let any part of him be lost on her again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I'm so sorry, my family and I have moved country and it's been so busy, I will try to do better! I couldn't write Gilbert's POV because it was far too emotionally draining, but hopefully I will get to writing a Gilbert POV soon! As you can see, Anne has already changed a lot and will continue to change, so has Gilbert but moreso in his behaviour towards Anne. Please don't be angry with me!


	4. Chapter 4

The starter itself seemed to go by painfully slowly, but, nearing the end of the main course, everything had finally begun to settle down and Anne allowed herself to relax somewhat.

However she'd let her guard down far too soon, as had Mary, for before anyone could foresee it soon enough to prevent it, Marilla had Gilbert cornered in conversation.

'- and of course this meal is in your honour, Gilbert, after all you did for our Anne. What a fright she gave us! And you too I can be sure'.

_ No. _

_ Please no. _

Anne became almost paralyzed with fright, she dared not blink, as her heart accelerated and the blood rushed to her face. If she hadn't been sitting down, she was sure she would have collapsed then and there.

She heard Gilbert cough and this made her jump. 

'No trouble', he answered, plain, polite and emotionless.

The mere sound of his voice gave her goosebumps.

'On the contrary!' Marilla scoffed, 'I'm sure she caused you a great  _ deal _ of trouble. I cannot thank you enough for what you did, I daresay we owe a far greater deal to you than one simple supper'.

Anne was conflicted as to whenever or not she should make a run for it, for she was almost certain she was going to be sick.

_ Please stop, please stop, please stop, please stop, _ she mentally begged Marilla, who was being almost impressive in her ability to fan flames she had no idea were even there.

Glancing quickly, she could just make out a mildly horrified Mary, seemingly trying her best to come up with a suitable diversion.

'Simple?' Mary laughed, her voice strained and overexaggerated, 'Now, that's a lie if I ever heard one Marilla. The lamb is second to none!' 

'Here, here!' Matthew agreed, still very much preoccupied with his dinner.

A buzzing noise began to fill Anne's ears again as she stared at her glass, eyes filling with water and mouth dry from her inability to swallow. She knew it was real, but it felt like it wasn't. Her very worst nightmare come to life by entirely her own doing.

Mary tried her best, showering Marilla with compliments over her culinary skills, prying ceaselessly as to her exact 'method'. The very nature of Mary asking for Marilla's advice on seasoning would have been comical in any other given situation.

_ 'Although' _ , Marilla turned to Anne, scolding her subtlety, 'you'd hardly think this was a show of gratitude with all the thanks you've received from this one!'

Anne's heart leapt and her face burned as she felt all eyes on her.

'Well now, Anne, do you have anything to say to dear Gilbert?' Marilla prompted.

Anne had to open her mouth twice and swallow three times before anything came out.

'Thank you…' she spoke in a barely there whisper.

Gilbert's fierce gaze met with hers in one unexpected snap, causing her to audibly gasp. Shaming her with his stare, his eyes had her locked in a terrible grip. 

It was an indescribably dreadful moment, one that would stick with her forever. He looked so much older than before, his features so sharp and hardened, and she felt so small, so foolish and insignificant, as if they were not equals. He was a man and she was just a very silly girl. She couldn't compare to him. How could she ever have rejected him? How could anyone ever deny him? He both terrified her and took her breath away all at once.

Gilbert simply nodded his head dismissively and turned away, not so much as sparing her a second glance, as if she had just remarked on something so utterly uninteresting it wasn't worth further effort. 

This, of course, only caused her to redden all the more.

Even Marilla, it seemed, had caught on to the awkwardness of the atmosphere and, satisfied with Anne's acknowledgement, mercifully broke the silence.

'Well now, I do suppose time for the tart!'

The table erupted in eager agreement as Marilla headed to the kitchen.

Anne couldn't take it anymore, getting up to seek some chore in the kitchen.

Mary followed her lead, lifting Dellie from her highchair.

'Looks like someone needs changing', she grimaced, 'you all carry on, I'll be back in a minute'.

'I'll take her!' Anne burst out, seeing a means of escape. She flushed for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. If she were not so preoccupied she would have pondered on what shade of crimson she was now.

'Oh it's fine Anne, I'll just - '

'No, no, please'. Anne took hold of Delphine, meeting Mary's gaze. She must have appeared half mad.

Mary's confused eyes widened at first, and then softened in understanding.

She loosened her grip, letting Anne take her daughter, 'That's very kind of you Anne, thank you, ah...her...Delphine's things are just in the parlour - '

'Got it!' She rushed out the room before Mary could even finish. 

Anne deeply regretted appearing so rude in Mary's eyes, for it was Mary who she so admired and looked up to, but she was paranoid that Marilla would come back and stop her from escaping, terrified that she would once again have to look into Gilbert Blythe's eyes. 

Nothing in the world would have her risk that.

  
  


****

  
  


Anne collapsed by the fireside, clutching onto Delphine for dear life, like a young child would to a beloved comforter, the smell not bothering her in the least. She sobbed silently into her little white cap without regard, for the fire would soon dry any tears.

A frustrated screech from Delphine soon interrupted Anne's pity party.

'Sorry sweetheart', she sniffed, 'let's get you changed. You must be so uncomfortable poor thing', Anne cooed, calming her down.

Delphine looked up at her with big brown eyes, sticking out her tongue and kicking the air without a care in the world.

'Oh Dellie…' Anne whispered desperately, 'I don't know what to do Dellie'. 

Delphine looked at her all the more curiously, tilting her head here and there. Anne could almost pretend she could understand her. 

Oh, how wonderful that would be!

Anne had to believe it was so, for her own sake, it was the only solace she could find.

She went about changing Dellie, laying her on the blanket Mary had brought and setting aside the soiled cloth to boil later, all the while pouring out the sorrows and secrets she didn't dare reveal to another soul.

'...I could never have imagined that Gilbert...that it could ever….Cole had told me once you see, two years ago in Charlottetown, but I never dared believe him!' 

Anne rambled on as Dellie continued to look at her with inquisitiveness. She, of course, pretended that this was out of genuine investment in her problems rather than her curiosity at the funny sounds and expressions being made by this odd girl.

Anne fastened Dellie's nappy with a safety pin, her stomach doing a flip when she heard Marilla asking for her whereabouts in the dining room. Luckily for her, Mary seemed to make an excuse for her absence that placated the situation, and the party settled down for dessert without her.

Anne exhaled, setting Dellie on her knee and murmuring the rest of her confessions. With her rattle in hand, Dellie was happy as anything and not one bit bothered by Anne's divulging of her innermost thoughts and feelings. Rather than exasperate her, as one would think, Dellie's lack of reaction comforted Anne more than anything. There was no chastisement, disappointment or pity, and that was something she was never going to get anywhere else.

After a long while Anne just closed her eyes and rocked the two of them back and forth, more of a comfort to herself than Dellie, as she inhaled the smell of powder and fresh cotton and kissed the baby's head. It wasn't long before Dellie discarded her rattle and found a substitute in Anne's braid, tugging at it with rather impressive force.

'Dellie!' Anne squealed with laughter as her hair came loose, delighting the baby girl as she reached for her scalp, pulling at what she could get her hands on.

'That's enough now', said Anne as she tried to encourage her hands away, but Dellie's determination and persistence had her laughing far too hard to make any progress. Dellie soon joined in with her own high pitched cries of delight, pulling at two locks as if it were the most amusing thing in the world.

Eyes shut, Anne turned her head away and attempted to stop her chronic giggles as Delphine continued her fun. It was no sooner than she opened her eyes that she found the antidote to her trouble.

_ Gilbert _ .

Delphine, annoyed by the sudden loss of attention, began to pull Anne's hair even harder, but Anne barely felt anything.

She and Gilbert stared at one another for what seemed a small eternity. She would never forget the look in his eyes, which instantly imprinted itself in her mind, heart and soul with a hot branding iron.

At first she had some trouble trying to decipher his expression. He didn't look indifferent. He didn't look annoyed or angry. He looked as if he were in pain. It was a  _ deep _ pain, a  _ deep _ sadness. 

But it was also more than that.

A deep grief. 

Anne opened her mouth to say something.

' - and thank you again Marilla, you really did go out of your way!'

'I went no further than I ought and you well know it!'

The four adults marched in chatting away and breaking the spell.

Anne hid her face guiltily, as if she had just been caught doing something she shouldn't. Delphine smiled at her, holding her face in her pudgy hands, as to not let her attention be redirected. Anne wanted to cry at the sweetness of it. She didn't deserve it at all.

'And thank you  _ Anne _ for minding Delphine!' Mary eagerly took her newly sweet smelling baby, 'It was certainly a help and a half'.

Anne looked over towards Marilla, who didn't appear annoyed or disapproving but rather pleased. One would assume Mary had twisted the scenario and placed Anne in the role of heroic helper, instead of anxious, self serving and desperate for a getaway.

'The pleasure was all mine', Anne smiled tenderly, 'she was a delight, she always is'.

'You wouldn't be saying that if you heard her screaming at three in the morning!' Mary nudged her playfully with a genuine laugh.

Anne found herself laughing too, if only for a short while. She still had no idea what Mary's new opinion of her was, for she was certainly being so obliging for the sake of Gilbert. A part of Anne didn't want to know Mary's true feelings, it would hurt her heart too much.

'Sebastian, are you ready?' Mary called to her husband.

Anne was at once panicky as the adults said their goodbyes, desperate to get Gilbert alone again, but he was out the door before she could even say goodbye. It made her ache in a way she never had before.

Mary was flustered as she said her goodbyes, embarrassed by Gilbert's quick exit, but Marilla didn't seem to notice or mind too much. To her, it felt obvious that the evening had been a success.

'Well, that went rather well don't you suppose?' a pleased Marilla turned to Anne and Matthew.

Anne nodded vaguely, returning to her room.

  
  


****

  
  


The ride home had been close to agonising. Gilbert was dead silent and neither Bash nor Mary dared say a word.

When they arrived, Gilbert leapt out of the buggy before Bash had finished parking, making a fearsomely deliberate stride to the door.

Mary handed Delphine to Bash, and ran after him, desperate to catch him before he shut himself off from them once more.

'She really seemed very sorry Gilbert I think that - '

'Did she?' Gilbert queried coldly, an unmistakably edge to his voice that made it clear not to get any closer.

'Gilbert - '

'Leave him be Mary', Bash stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

But Mary couldn't be pacified so easily.

'It can't remain like this Sebastian, we have to do  _ something' _ , she protested, by now extremely worried.

'We've done all we can', Bash stated seriously, 'time heals all wounds, Mary, let it run its course'.

Mary shook her head firmly, overcome with emotion.

Bash sighed, holding her close and kissing her forehead.

'There's nothing more we can do', he repeated, more sympathetic and understanding this time. 'You'll see, every boy has his first heartbreak. By this time next month, everything will be back to normal'.

But Mary had lived long enough to know better.

'No'. 

It was just as she had both suspected and feared.

'No it won't'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient!

Each time the steam whistle screeched it rang through Gilbert's mind long after it had stopped. He tried to distract himself with pages of medical jargon, yet, try as he might, his mind continued to carelessly wander without him even realising, forcing him to start each page again. Usually he was fine reading on the train, but this time he was bombarded with wave after wave of irritating nausea as his head throbbed in tandem. He held his head and shut his eyes, finally forcing himself to confront the events of that morning.

_'Gilbert! Gilbert?'_

_Her voice only became louder and louder, yet he still continued to adamantly ignore it._

_'Gilbert!'_

_She practically pounced in front of him, like some sort of wild animal. Her hair was unbrushed and unbraided, her clothes crumpled and there were dark circles underneath her eyes._

_He might have thought she looked cute before. He didn't think so now._

_She just looked a mess._

_'Gilbert, I'm so sorry'._

_He let out a disdainful chuckle, not even bothering to slow down._

_She didn't give up, continuing to plead as she ran beside him._

_'Gilbert please!'_

_That's when he snapped._

_'Sorry? Sorry!' he rounded on her. He didn't stop when she jumped and shivered, she was the one who asked for this._

_'I'm sure this whole thing is all very amusing to you', he sneered in disgust, no longer able to hide his utter revulsion and disbelief, 'but did it ever occur to you that some of us actually have things to do? That maybe, just maybe,_ **_I_ ** _didn't want to be disturbed this morning? That_ **_I_ ** _have obligations I need to attend to? Or are you so wrapped up in yourself and your own guilty conscience that you only thought about what you wanted_ **_exactly_ ** _as per usual?_

_He knew he sounded cruel._

_He didn't care._

_'Well?'_

_She opened her mouth once, twice, three times, a couple of sounds leaving her mouth, about to speak, before deciding against it._

_'Anything else to say?' he stepped closer as she cowered._

_She sniffed and whimpered, stepping back._

_Pathetic._

_'Didn't think so'._

_And just like that, he left her behind._

As he had calmed down from his tirade, Gilbert wasn't left feeling any better, instead he just felt hollow. Hollow and guilty.

Was it really Anne's fault that he'd fallen for an idea in his head? An idea of what she was and what the two of them could be? Yes, she'd been both idiotic and cruel, but was it right that his own expectations had been so unattainable? He'd built her up so much in his head for so long that he'd failed to realise the hard truth of it. 

That Anne was just a girl. 

A measly, selfish young girl. 

She was a kid. 

Perhaps a part of him had always known this, but he had always just pushed the feeling aside. Much like he had twisted Anne's reaction to fit his own hopes and desires, he had moulded the idea of Anne herself into something she was not. These past three years he had made excuse after excuse for her, defended her incessantly even when he had known she was in the wrong, forgiven her when she wouldn't forgive him, accepted every late apology before she had even finished speaking, all because he had wanted what he thought of her to be true. All because he had wanted the two of them to work so badly, so _desperately_ , that his mind would have convinced him of anything.

But the truth, the terrible truth, was that Anne was just like any other sixteen year old schoolgirl. The differences that had so captivated him were, he now realised, superficial and had only blinded him to the fact that she was simply too immature.

It sickened him to confront this.

He supposed, then, that he wasn't only grieving the idea of a future together, but the idea of her as well.

He rubbed his hand up and down his face, sighed shakily and, resigned, wound up closing his textbook. He wasn't in the mood to read. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the window ledge and stared out. It was relaxing, after a while he could almost pretend he was on a still train as the view subtly changed minute by minute. He remained this way until he arrived at the Charlottetown station.

Gilbert felt funny once he got off the train, very different from before, a sort of acceptance had come over him. He didn't exactly feel happy or sad, but something had been left behind and he felt lighter.

Quick in his stride, he arrived at Dr Ward's practice five minutes early.

_'We've really got to stop meeting like this! Yet here we are again, Mr. Bones…'_

  
  


****

  
  


Gilbert had taken notice of Winifred Rose before, he'd been acquainted with her for a while now. She had begun working as a clerk for Dr Ward in the Spring of last year. Due to her cultured manner, she was quite the enigma and had captured his curiosity. What would possess a beautiful debutante to find work in a Doctor's Office? Despite being immediately enticed by this, he had never made an effort to further their relationship.

Watching her now, those hidden feelings that had bubbled beneath only intensified and rose to the surface. 

_Hello_

She was charming, making conversation with a make-do suitor, or "Mr Bones" as she was referring to the skeleton, and she had a beautiful voice that only heightened Gilbert's attraction to her.

'Oh, you're awfully handsome when you are contrite Mr. Bones!'

If someone had told him he'd one day be envious of a skeleton, he'd have split his sides. But she was so utterly beguiling, surely such charms were wasted on bones?

He stood, admiring her from behind the door, before making up his mind to join in on the charade.

He puffed his chest out, and made his best attempt at a "roguish" sort of look, hoping to woo her as she had enchanted him. 

'Pardon me', he strode over, almost possessive in his pantomime. After all, he had to make sure "Mr Bones" knew he had competition.

'Oh!', Miss Rose exclaimed, surprised but still keeping partly in act, 'Mr Blythe…' she ducked her head, a blush painting her lovely face. 

He had to wait a moment to catch his breath.

She was simply exquisite.

'Miss Rose…', he breathed before clearing his throat, 'I was wondering...if Mr Bones was alright with it, of course, that you might accept an invitation to tea?'

Winifred looked at the skeleton playfully, as if asking permission, before giggling softly.

'That would be lovely', her voice became lower as she clutched her feather duster and she looked up at him from beneath dark lashes.

Unfortunately for him, Gilbert had been too busy admiring her golden curls and pretty pink cheeks to make a smooth exit. 

'Careful!' Winifred exclaimed as he bumped into the doorway behind him.

Giddy with nerves, he held a finger up in reassurance and suppressed a smile.

He had a date.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of you probably knew this was coming, and believe me when I say it was harder for me to write than for you to read. I am, however, looking forward to developing Winifred's character, as the writers didn't even try to disguise that she was a shameless plot device. I hated how her entire personality was based around what the plot needed, giving her none of her own agency or dimension. So expect some Winifred POV chapters in the future!
> 
> Also, would you guys rather have more regular short chapters or wait for longer chapters?
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter please leave kudos and a comment! Questions are always welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for pain

'...wouldn't you say Mr Blythe?'

'Yes, yes!' Gilbert jolted slightly, his knee hitting the table.

'Well, I would love to know your opinion', Winifred implored.

'Ah...yes...best tea I've ever had'. he lifted his cup in a mock toast.

Winifred giggled, he swore her laughter was like music. She looked at him with amused pity, 'I was remarking on the weather'.

Gilbert just stared, somewhat slack jawed.

He was at first confused as to why she blushed and smirked, bowing her head demurely.

He'd been caught staring again.

Now it was his turn to blush and duck.

He was nervous, he'd never been on a date before, and he certainly never expected to be on a date with someone as beautiful as Winifred. 

He was the definition of a fish out of water.

Charitably, Winifred cleared her throat and broke the silence. 

'This is your...first time Mr Blythe?'

Gilbert reddened further, nodding his head and looking up sheepishly.

'What gave it away?'

Winifred's smirk softened slightly.

'Well then, why don't you allow me to take the lead?' she suggested smoothly.

Gilbert's eyes widened.

_ 'I _ ask the questions,  _ you _ answer' she said it so directly that it stirred excitement deep within him.

'Huh...' he drummed his fingers playfully, going along with her game, '...and...what if  _ I _ would like to ask some questions of my own?'

'Mr Blythe…' Winifred's breathy reply made her sound taken aback, but it was obvious she was enjoying the exchange, 'a better lady might have taken her leave…'

'But...you didn't?', he cocked a brow, daring her to respond.

She choked with laughter, this time clearly surprised, perhaps she hadn't expected him to answer back quite so boldly.

'Very well', she conceded, 'let's take turns'.

'Very well', Gilbert agreed, feeling at once more at ease.

_ 'Me _ first'.

He was more than happy to oblige.

'Why Mr Blythe, might I ask, have you never asked me to tea before?'

Gilbert leaned back in his chair, mouth parted in amusement, once more daring her to carry on.

'Well, you must have known I liked you?' Winifred shrugged, taking a sip of her tea

Gilbert had to be careful to keep his cool.

'Mmmmust I?' he questioned casually, hoping she wouldn't be able to detect the change in his voice.

'Don't think that little display was the first time I've tried to catch your attention'.

'Mr Bones was...for me?' he raised his eyebrows.

'Oh, don't sound so surprised', she scolded, taking another sip of tea, 'it's not like I had any  _ living _ suitors hidden away to make you jealous'.

_ Jealous? _

Winifred...had liked him? Winifred Rose? For how long? He would have been lying if he denied his ego and vanity having just taken an immense boost then and there. 

'Miss Rose...Winifred…'

'Winnie', she corrected.

'Winnie…' he smiled, so that's what she preferred to be called, he liked this new information very much, 'might I just say...how very sorry I am that I didn't pursue you sooner, but please know that your feelings were, and have always been...', he paused to chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.

Winifred Rose!

'... _ far _ from unreturned'.

She looked him up and down with a coy smile before granting pardon.

'You're forgiven'.

  
  


****

  
  


It was Gilbert's turn next, then Winnie's, and then his again. In the course of their half hour morning break, the two had each managed to rack up a fairly extensive history of the other.

He told his own story of course. He told her about his family, his mother, his brothers and sisters before him. Most painful of all, he told her of his father, John, who, try as he might, he could not manage to adequately capture with words alone. He talked about his passion for medicine, particularly medical research and vaccination. He also told her about his time on the ship, as well as his travels, in hopes of seeming more sophisticated in that respect, purposefully leaving out what exactly he was doing on the ship as well as the friend turned brother he had met along the way.

Despite his efforts to leave certain details out, he was still positive that Winifred's best reaction would be pity, her worst, of course, being to swiftly take her leave, but Winifred had a far more interesting story of her own.

Winifred had been born in Kensington, having spent her childhood in between the Island and London. An only child like himself, or like he was now, her parents had spared little expense in regards to her education. She had been finished in Paris, as befitting a girl of her station, but, as well as having had a governess, she had also been taught by the finest of tutors just as well as any boy. Despite her sex, Winnie's father had wanted her to have every possible opportunity. Winnie's father, you see, was the grandson of an East End entrepreneur, his own father, Crispin Rose, was therefore able to marry into old money.

'Grandmama was perhaps the most eligible debutante in high society at the time, it caused quite the stir amongst the gentry'.

The  _ Rose _ textile brand had only since expanded. Even, thanks to her father, going all the way to Canada. Not satisfied with being the majority shareholder, Nigel Rose made his own decision to have an active management role. He was not only extremely well respected, but also very well liked, particularly for his intense interest in the conditions of his workers. He had never forgotten his own working class roots, nor his grandfather, the humble Spitalfields weaver, who had started it all.

'He gambled everything he had, my great grandfather, all his money from peddling, all on that old abandoned weaving mill...but it paid off. It was all just luck really'.

Her father held and valued these ideals so strongly that he had insisted, much to the horror of Winnie's mother, that his own daughter get a job, just as he would have expected of a son, not that there was any protest on Winifred's part.

'I  _ do _ get bored so easily, and there's only so many faces you can socialise with in my circle…' she daintily poured them each another cup.

In the space of thirty minutes, Gilbert had become utterly besotted.

'Goodness, look where the time goes!' Winnie gasped as she looked up at the clock. 'Oh dear…,well, I suppose we better get going, unless we want Dr Ward on our cases'.

Disappointed lay like a lead weight in his belly. He didn't want to leave.

Childishly, he almost considered stalling for a few moments, before coming up with a better idea.

'Please, after we get off of work, would you allow me to walk you home, Winnie?' he looked at her imploringly.

He would have to catch a later train, but that didn't matter, he didn't want to spend another minute away from this fascinating creature.

Winnie feigned hesitation.

'If you must…', she teasingly relinquished with a nod.

Gilbert grinned, getting up from his chair to pull her's out.

'Oh!'

He rushed to catch her as she stumbled, but she had already taken ahold of his arm. She gazed at him almost bashfully, and it made him swell with pride. Everything she did, it was so graceful, so feminine, so refined, that it made  _ him _ want to be more of a gentleman and tend to her accordingly. Winnie was a true lady in every sense and he was overwhelmed with a strong desire to prove himself worthy.

'Quite the catch…' Winnie giggled, sauntering out the door without looking back.

For a while, all he could do was stare after her spellbound.

Unable to resist, Gilbert plucked a small flower out from the table's vase, before dashing out after her.

  
  


****

  
  


Pondering the events of the day, Gilbert stared at his stolen keepsake on the train ride home with a smitten expression. Such was his mood, if someone had hit him over the head he probably would have thanked them.

What a change from this morning! Instead of bemoaning his regrettable interaction with Anne, he was instead reminiscing both a tea date  _ and _ walk home with sweet Winnie.

The pain that Anne Shirley-Cuthbert had caused him now seemed a distant memory. He almost felt rather foolish about the whole thing. How on earth had he become so fixated on Anne when the lovely Winifred had been under his nose this whole time? Perhaps, he dared to consider, the rejection had been a blessing in disguise? Otherwise he would have  _ never _ made his move on Winnie.

He breathed in the heady scent of the violet, sighing contentedly. He was sure that they signified love, although he didn't know for certain. What  _ was _ for certain, what he knew without a shadow of a doubt, was that no flower could ever compare to Winifred Rose. Still, it would have to make do until next time.

Next time...he could hardly wait.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I know you're probably upset right now and don't want to continue reading but please trust me. I really, really, really need you to trust me.
> 
> This will probably be the most painful chapter to read, it only goes up from here!
> 
> Please leave a comment so we can be sad together


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long!

Tears continued to well up in Mary's eyes as she prepared the morning porridge, consumed with a guilt so painful, she had to consciously force herself to stir.

She had to carry on, what was done was done, but how could she?  _ How _ could she carry on whilst her baby son was hurting?

She squeezed her eyes shut as more fresh tears poured out, attempting to regain some control over her ragged breathing, she didn't know whether or not she could forgive herself.

Elijah had borne the brunt of her shame, he had done from the moment he was born. Her parents had let them stay on, or, at least, her mother had convinced her father. Her mother was the only one to believe her when she was finally able to tell them what had happened. For Mary, those first months had perhaps been the hardest. All she did was work, cleaning for her family and others on their street to earn her keep. She couldn't even afford a crib, baby Elijah spent his first months of life in a loose draw. The two lived with them until she'd saved a good six months rent on a place of their own, a tiny room beneath the local apothecary, though the term it a "room" was in itself generous. It was a cupboard like place, pitch black, with what only could be described as cracks for windows. Looking back, she couldn't quite comprehend how she had done it. But she had only been fourteen, with so much energy and determination that she could go days on her feet without sleep. 

At sixteen, she began working for old man Edwards at the laundrette and was soon able to afford a bigger room in a better part of the neighbourhood. It was here and then that her life really began to turn around, she met her laundry sisters and, for the first time since she was a young girl, truly felt part of a community again. Everyone helped one another out, if you were sick or in need there was no anxiety or apprehension, someone else would look out for you and pick up the slack wherever it was needed. It soon became apparent that she was no longer alone in any aspect of her life, not even as a mother. Elijah was subsequently raised by a clan, a clan of women who were as loving as they were firm. They always complained that Mary was too soft with him, but she staunchly disagreed. For so long it had been just the two of them, she could never give him too much love, only they knew what they had been through, only they understood one another completely. They belonged to one another and one another alone. Everyday she worked until she could no longer stand in the evening, her back still twinged thinking about it, it seemed there was never a moment's rest. 

But none of it had mattered,  _ he _ was all that mattered. Her sweet baby boy. She would have done anything for him.

All her life, she had convinced herself that she couldn't have done anything more, that she had done the very best she could.

But she hadn't done enough.

She couldn't save him.

She couldn't save him from the cruelty of others, from their scorn and lowly expectations. Elijah had been such a bright boy, far cleverer than she herself had ever been. He'd taught himself to read a good year before starting school, and, considering he had never shown much interest in her old picture books, imagine her surprise when he started pointing out the different street names! By the time he was seven, he was well ahead of his class in most subjects and was only becoming more promising. But this soon caused all sorts of problems with the other children. Jealousy, prejudice, gossip, whatever the cause, they would relentlessly taunt him and try to get a rise. She pleaded with him to turn the other cheek, but Elijah had a temper. The time came when he was getting into physical fights every other day. It was more often than not that these brawls were on the grounds of defending her. She would constantly tell him not to listen, but nothing she said made any difference, it was a matter of "honour" for him. He was always her fiercest protector. But...as the years wore on so did the words of others wear him down, so much so that soon...soon he began to resent her. She could never and would never blame him for it, but that didn't stop the pain. He became colder to her, more harsh and distant, shrugging off any affection. She had to watch as her beautiful, intelligent boy came to meet the very expectations of those around him. Despite how she begged him to stay, he left school early and began working odd jobs. None of them ever lasted very long. It was around this time that he developed his drinking problem. She would never forget the unspeakable fear of that first night he didn't come home. When he arrived the next day she had screamed at him and he had burst into tears in her arms. He told her he was sorry, promising he wouldn't scare her like that again. But he did. He would leave for days on end, each time longer than the last. 

And now…

It was too difficult to bear, for Mary knew no matter how she tried he would never lose the look of betrayal she had seen in his eyes yesterday. Nobody could ever take his place in her heart, but she knew her son would never comprehend a mother's love for her child...

...and though she knew it was right and just that she give Delphine all this, that it was what was due to her, it only made it more and more apparent just how much she had failed her baby boy. How she'd failed him in every possible way.

She let out an awful sound, her sobs taking control of her body.

'Mary?' 

She felt her husband place his hands on her shoulders

'I'm  _ fine', _ her voice broke, she turned into Sebastian's chest so that he wouldn't see her face.

'Ssssh', he comforted, rocking her back and forth. 

She relaxed in his arms, but only a little. It wasn't right,  _ she _ shouldn't be the one being comforted…her son...her Elijah.

She sighed deeply into his chest, waiting for herself to fully calm down.

'I'm gonna give Elijah till tomorrow to arrange some place else to stay...if he can't go back to where he was, he'll find somewhere soon enough'

Mary withdrew from him completely.

'What? What are you talking about?'

_ 'You _ , Mary,' he said, 'I won't have him speaking to you the way he did yesterday'. Sebastion stepped forward, attempting to hold her again.

'You don't understand', she pushed him away, irritated.

'Obviously not, if I had spoken to my mother like that - '

'There you go, proving my point', she scoffed bitterly, returning to the cooker.

'I won't have him around you and Dellie, not like this, I won't risk it'.

_ 'Risk _ it?' Mary turned around, incredulous, 'Elijah is no danger, he would never hurt Delphine!'

'You saw how he was yesterday', he argued as she turned her back again, 'and you and I both know that that's far from the worst it could get...if he doesn't stop drinking…'

'He knows he has to stay sober and he  _ will',  _ Mary asserted hoarsely from over her shoulder.

There was quiet for a while.

'All I'm sayin' is if he doesn't clean up his act, if there's  _ one _ more incident like that, he's outta here'.

Mary didn't respond.

Sebastian sighed, realising there was no point in discussing the matter further, he headed to the table.

He attempted to ease the tension while Mary was pouring the bowls.

'Mary I - '

_ 'Bum ba da dum, bum ba da dum…' _

They stared at one another with wide eyes, any tension of the previous moment was instantly thrown out the window.

_ 'That if I did not kiss the girl my lips would grow all mouldy…' _

Mary's mouth fell right open.

She slapped her husband's arm with a grin. Immediately taking her hint, he smiled and nodded in return, collecting a nearby newspaper and feigning intense interest.

Mary rushed like a mad woman over to the cupboard, trying in vain to drop her achingly large smile.

_ 'Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe...' _

Mary opened the cupboard door as she heard Gilbert turn the corner.

_ 'Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe _

_ Way, haul away, we'll haul away together _

_ Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!' _

Mary couldn't hold in her laughter at the sight before her, both joyous and thoroughly entertained. Gilbert had taken Sebastian in his arms to dance about the room, with the latter, mind you, enthusiastically going along with the act. The two looked a right pair, both as ridiculous as the other!

_ Way!  _ **_Ho!_ ** _ Haul away, we'll haul away together _

_ Way Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe _

_ Way!  _ **_Ho!_ ** _ Haul away, we'll hope for better weather _

_ Away Haul Away, we'll haul away, Joe _

They both spent a considerably excessive amount of time on the last note, with Mary finally having to put a stop to it herself.

'Okay, okay!', she quietened them down, laughing along.

'What's gotten into you Blythe?' asked a very amused Bash.

'I think I know…' said Mary, wandering over to inspect a sneaky flower stuck in his buttonhole.

Gilbert's fingers immediately went to clutch the now empty hole, a lovesick expression plastered on his face.

What a sop he was!

'Ooh,  _ I _ see', Bash went to take a look for himself.

'Hey!' Gilbert snatched his flower away, smiling good naturedly yet rather protective.

'Well pardon  _ me _ for being curious', Sebastian teased, 'it's not everyday that you're singing all moony, sprouting posies and what not'.

'Is that breakfast I smell Mary?'

'Changing the subject I see…' 

'Here you go!' Mary handed him his bowl of porridge. She'd made sure to add an extra sprinkling of raisins, his favourite.

'My regards to the chef!' he raised his bowl in thanks, eagerly tucking in.

Seeing Gilbert was in such a wonderful mood, she decided it was the perfect time to broach the matter of Elijah's accommodation.

'Gilbert, Elijah came to visit yesterday...I hope you don't mind but...we let him stay in your father's room...please tell me that's alright?'

'Oh, of course! It's not a shrine'.

Mary couldn't help but be slightly taken aback, his reaction was even better than expected, so she decided to press further.

'...we were wondering if perhaps this arrangement could become more...permanent? I know you two could use an extra hand this year and - '

'Yes', Gilbert answered, slowly but decidedly, 'And did I mention? Yes!', he answered again, excitement taking over him.

Mary and Bash beamed at each other in incredulity.

'I'll go tell him the news then', said Bash, heading off to find Elijah.

Once her husband was out of earshot, Mary wasted no time in getting to know the exact details as to the cause of Gilbert's change in mood.

'Alright then, tell me', she demanded with a smile.

'Well, there's...a girl…'

'I gathered…' Mary teasingly encouraged.

Gilbert sighed almost dreamily, 'Her name's Winnie, she works at Dr Ward's practice...she's...well she's…' Gilbert chuckled fondly, lowering his gaze, as if reminiscing, '...she's perfect, that's what she is…' closing his eyes he took another whiff of the flower. 

Mary was stunned. She had to carefully consider what to say next.

'Oh…'

Luckily, Gilbert was far too preoccupied smelling his violet to notice the complete change in Mary's voice.

'Winnie...goodness….wow!' Mary was able to collect herself quite quickly, although her laughter now had an odd awkwardness about it.

'Wow indeed…' Gilbert raised his eyebrows with a quirk of the head, he was smirking in a way that she didn't like.

She let out another nervous laugh.

'Mary!' her husband's alarmed voice made her jump.

Startled, she immediately rushed to him with Gilbert following close behind.

_ 'Sebastian?' _ she called out in a strained way, overcome with worry, 'what's happened? Is everything - '

They found themselves in Elijah's room, in John Blythe's room, upon sight of it Mary was instantly lost for words. Everything was in complete disarray, no draw left unopened, empty boxes and suitcases scattered along the floor... 

They'd been burgled - how?

No

_ No, please no _

'He's gone...he's…' Bash's voice was a mix of horror and loathing, '...taken it all...everything'.

'Gilbert…' Mary's own voice was hoarse and breathy, it was all she could say.

Bash finished for her.

'Gilbert, we're so sorry'.

But Gilbert didn't say anything. He sat down on his father's bed, emotionless, his flower lay forgotten.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to start getting interesting now! Please consider leaving a kudos and comment if you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Anne and Gilbert are going to be very different because the previous "Take-Notice" event has changed them both forever. They're going to act very differently to situations than they would have if it had never happened. I can't wait to explore their psyches with you guys, please leave as many comments and questions as you like!


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